“For helvede,” he murmurs against me. “You’re too good to be true, aren’t you?”

Actually, you feel too good to be true, I think as I gasp. His thick finger slides along my clit and my body immediately melts into his hand, needing more, wanting more. I’ve never had the need to get off strike me like this before, like a match to a firework, slowly working its way up the rope.


I grab hold of the back of his neck, his skin hot to the touch already, my body greedy for him. All these months of fantasy have me ready to go. His fingers play gently along my clit, teasing like fluttery wings, before the they plunge inside me.

A gasp escapes my mouth.

“Oh god,” Aksel says thickly, bringing his lips back to mine. “You sound like an angel.”

“Don’t treat me like one,” I tell him, sucking in my breath as his fingers slowly withdraw. “Just fuck the hell out of me.”

If Aksel is surprised by my dirty mouth, he doesn’t show it. He merely grins. I guess he’s used to me not having a filter.

“Just as I imagined you’d be,” he says before he's lowering his head to my breast, pulling the neckline of my nightgown to the side until my nipple is exposed and hardening in the air. His lips gently suck at the tip before he draws it into his mouth in one long, hard pull.

My back arches for more and breathless groans are coaxed out of me. We're still standing in the middle of the room, and I'm not sure how much more I can take like this. I'm getting desperate for him in a way I never thought possible, an aching need that's clawing its way up through my core, turning every part of my body into an addict, a junkie.

He pinches my nipple between his teeth and, as he does so, plunges his fingers back inside me, three of them this time. I expand around him, needing more, more. Every inch of my skin is on fire for him, ignoring the snow billowing outside.

“Fuck,” he growls as he withdraws his hand, putting his fingers into his mouth. He doesn't break eye contact as he tastes me, licking the side of his finger with his long, flat tongue.

My eyes widen.

My god.

This damn dirty Dane.

“You taste like dessert,” he says, his accent thickening, before his mouth crashes against mine again. I'm salty, musky, slightly sweet as his tongue probes further against mine, whipping up my desire to the boiling point. This is already the hottest thing I've ever experienced and I’ve been with some pretty sexy French men before.

Before I know what's happening, he's pushing me back, his large, lean body looming over me. “Get on the floor,” he commands, his voice husky and rich, screaming of sex, screaming of power.

I gladly drop down to my knees on the thick wool rug, staring up at him while he quickly removes his t-shirt and yanks down his pajama pants. Now, he’s naked.

Completely naked.

His sculpted, lean upper body leads to a six-pack, and those V dips to his hips which leads to…


That’s one hell of a Danish dick.

I know I've felt it before, its mass crushed against me while we kissed, I know I readied myself for it the other day, but now that it's in front of me, it's fucking dangerous looking.

A royal weapon.

I can barely take my eyes away from his cock to look up at him. Of course, he looks smug—he always looks smug—but there's a sense of wonder in his eyes, like he can't believe this is happening.

That makes two of us.

This is it.

There is no going back.

Since I'm already on my knees and I'm salivating for the taste of him, I grab his firm ass with one hand, my fingernails digging in as I tug him toward me. With my other hand I grasp his cock at the base, making a ring around it. I’m bold as hell and he's so goddamn hard, it's like silky velvet steel. I can feel the hot blood rushing underneath, the way it tics with each strong beat of his heart.

I close my eyes and tentatively slide my tongue along the sensitive underside before circling his crown, dark and lush, licking at the precum. The salt hits my tongue, revving my desire for him to another level.

I think he’s going to hit all my damn levels tonight.

His hand goes into my hair, pulling lightly, and he groans as I try and take him all into my mouth.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll ruin me,” he says breathlessly. “I don’t want you to ruin me without me ruining you first.”

He pulls his wet cock away from my mouth and glances down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “Turn around.”

I don’t want to stop staring at his beautiful naked body or the raw, hungry look on his face. But sacrifices must be made.

My heart is pumping hard in my head as I pivot around on the floor on all fours. He drops to his knees behind me, and I hold my breath, waiting for his touch. The bed is right there and yet I love that he’s going to fuck me on this rug, like we can’t wait, like we’re uncivilized animals in this palace of gold.

Swiftly he lifts up my nightshirt until it's bunched around my waist, then grabs my ass, squeezing hard so I stay in place. I flinch, the pressure from his fingertips firm, and yet the moment he yields, I want it even more.

He pulls me toward him as he positions himself, and with one swift jerk, shoves my underwear to the side and pushes into me. The air is expelled from my chest as he fills me, a gasp broken on my lips.

“How do you feel?” he asks, shuddering the words as he pushes himself fully inside.

How do I feel?

I can’t speak.

I can’t think.

I can only feel every single inch of his hard cock as I squeeze around him.

I try and nod, get my breath.

Oh my god.

How is he real?

His grip around my ass tightens—I feel like he might leave bruises.

“I can’t promise I’ll be refined and I can’t promise I’ll hold back,” he says through a gruff moan. “Just as long as you promise you won’t hold back either.”

Bloody hell. What am I getting into?

Everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Does that sound good, Miss Aurora?” he asks, his voice thick and brimming with lust. “Can you handle that duty?”

Oh god, yes, give me all the dirty talk, give me all the naughty boss scenarios.

He pauses, slowly pulling out in such a teasing, languid way that it’s torturous. I feel hollow, aching for him. I want him to fill me up and up and up, like a balloon ready to burst.

“Fuck me, Your Majesty,” I tell him and, to my complete surprise, his hand cracks across my ass with a loud, painful slap.

“Yes,” he hisses, and then he’s pounding into me, driving his dick in fast and deep and relentless. Over and over and over again, this breakneck pace that has me trying to hang on to the rug for dear life, my breasts jiggling with each quick, hard thrust.

“How does my cock make you feel? Dirty?” he asks through a husky groan. “How dirty do you want it?”

Oh god, I don’t even know what to say. My words fall from my mouth in a garble. All I can get out is:



Right there.

Harder, please.

Please, sir.

His pumps become quicker, deeper, and messy, like he’s losing control and going over the edge, taking me with him. I’ve never had a man in so deep like this, not just inside me but inside my head. Aksel has taken up residency there from the very first moment we met. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I shouldn’t have and he’s fucking me like we might lose everything tomorrow, like we won’t even be here tomorrow.

And maybe we won’t be.

Maybe there’s no tomorrow for us.

Just the here and now.

But right now, I have no thoughts to give.

I only have need.

A sharp, aching, timeless need.

For him.

And I need him now.

I drop onto one elbow, and with my other hand reach for my clit, the pressure building to insufferable heights as he fucks that sweet spot inside me, making me grow more swollen, more slick, more ready to let go and let my world bring us both under.

“That’s my duty, not yours,” he growls, grabbing the back of my hair until it’s gathered in his hand. He pushes forward until my cheek is pressed into the rug and he’s holding me down, grunting hard with each thrust.

I knew he was wild. I knew he could be unrefined. I have the mark on my shoulder to prove it.

But I didn’t think he’d be like this.

Whatever this is, I know it’s something I’ll never come back from. I know I’ll never want to. In my wildest, kinkiest dreams about him, it’s never been this good.

Yet, it’s Aksel.

My King.

How could I think otherwise?

While he yanks back at my hair and then holds me down in place, he slips his other hand under my stomach, his fingers finding my clit with expert ease.

I’m so wet, slick and ready for him that it doesn’t take long for him to push me to the edge. That very edge you want to run toward and then run away from, afraid to go over yet afraid to not.

He is merciless and grunting hard with each thrust, this rough, raw noise that gets louder and louder the closer he gets to coming. It’s such a beautiful noise, the noise of a man, of a king coming undone. It causes the heat in my core to turn into a raging inferno, fuel to the fire.

And then.

I’m coming.

A snap of the fingers.

“Aksel,” I cry out, a second before it happens, quick and swift, and I’m swept away, tumbling and turning, over and over as the orgasm churns through me. It’s a hurricane, and it has me in its clutches, and I never want it to let me go. My body quakes and shudders from head to toe as I pulse around him. I am light and heavy and my heart flies away. I never want to feel anything but this, never want anyone else but him.

“Aurora.” He groans out my name and then I feel him as he comes, the pressure in my hair, the slamming of his hips into my ass. The sounds coming out of his mouth are crude and I’d give anything to watch his face as he empties into me. To watch him lose control. To see what I do to him, that no one else does to him.

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